Chapter 11 - The Shadows of Halston Senior
Two weeks had passed since my final face-to-face confrontation with Drew in the visitation booth of the Charleston County Detention Center. The South Carolina sun was blazing down on the cobblestone lanes of the French Quarter, yet a chilling undercurrent was brewing beneath our peaceful surface.
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass in my office at Ellis Advisory, examining our expanded contracts for the municipal harbor terminals. My team had doubled in size, our order books were full, and my partnership with state infrastructure had set an untouchable precedent for integrity. But my desk phone rang with an unlisted private number.
"Maren Bennett," I answered.
"You certainly made a show of ruining my son, young lady," a raspy, tobacco-cured voice growled on the other end.
My fingers curled tightly around the receiver. It was Richard Halston—Drew’s father, the former patriarch of the family before Drew systematically ran Halston Holdings into financial bankruptcy and shame. Richard had spent forty years wheeling and dealing in old-money Lowcountry circles, trading on bloodline privilege, shady handshakes, and intimidation.
"Mr. Halston," I replied, my voice steady as ice. "Drew ruined himself through fraud, forgery, and federal wire crimes. He attempted to destroy my firm, and he paid the legal price."
"A boy makes a miscalculation in business, and you sick your billionaire husband and Arthur Crowley on him like attack dogs," Richard snarled, coughing hoarsely. "You think you've won because Drew is taking a plea deal in a county lockup? You think the Halston name can be wiped off the state registry by a girl who used to iron Drew's work shirts?"
"Your son is facing five years in state prison because he broke the law," I said coolly. "If you called to threaten me, Richard, remember that every incoming line to Ellis Advisory is recorded for municipal compliance."
A low, sinister laugh rasped across the line. "Save your bureaucratic speeches, Maren. Halston Holdings might be in Chapter 7, but I didn't spend four decades in this state without building a fortress of leverage. You and Bennett have made a very public spectacle of my family. Watch your back. In Charleston, high tide comes fast, and people drown before they realize their ankles are wet."
The line went dead with a harsh click.
I stood there, heart pounding against my ribs, refusing to let the old terror take root. Five years ago, Richard Halston had treated me like hired help, constantly reminding me at family Sunday dinners that I was an outsider with no lineage, lucky that his charismatic son had picked me out of the crowd. He had cheered when Drew abandoned me, openly boasting at the golf club that Drew had finally shaken off a deadweight liability.
The office door opened, and Owen stepped in. He had walked over from Bennett-Sterling’s regional headquarters two blocks away. He wore an impeccably tailored navy suit, but his sharp gray eyes instantly picked up on the slight stiffness in my shoulders.
"Maren?" Owen closed the door behind him and crossed the room in three strides, taking my cold hands into his warm, broad palms. "What happened?"
"Richard Halston," I told him, looking into my husband's steady eyes. "He just called my direct line. He's furious about Drew's plea deal. He threatened that high tide comes fast in Charleston."
Owen’s gaze tightened, a lethal, calculating calm washing over his expression. He kissed my forehead, letting his thumb trace my jawline. "Richard thinks the old rules still protect him. He spent the last decade using Drew as a front company while hiding off-the-books liabilities in shell corporations throughout Beaufort County. He's not angry about Drew's disgrace, Maren. He's terrified that the state investigators will trace Drew's stolen funds back to his personal offshore trust."
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"Do you think he'll try to interfere with our projects?" I asked.
"He can try," Owen said softly, pulling out his smartphone. "Marcus is outside with the security detail for you and Lucy. But Richard Halston just made his fatal mistake: he thought he was playing against a vulnerable ex-daughter-in-law. Let's see how his private empire holds up when Bennett-Sterling calls in the state banking commission."
